


Behind the Curtain (Throne of the Lost)

by Tragicplaywright



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tragicplaywright/pseuds/Tragicplaywright
Summary: "Actually," Zachary interjected, "His two current sons are Richard and Timothy. Prince Jason was killed four years ago when his ship was attacked. A year later King Bruce adopted Prince Timothy."Jason glared at him. He bit back a wave of rising resentment, struggling not to let it show. There was no reason for Peter, Metropolian orphan, to care about the Gotham royal family.Four years ago Prince Jason's ship was attacked by the Joker and the prince assumed dead. Now, caught in a web of lies and treason, Jason must return to a throne he had left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based off of the novel "False Prince" by Jennifer Nielsen and follows the plot of the book closely. As such all major and a large number of the minor plot points belong to her. All characters belong to DC comics.

Jason ran the pad of his thumb over the familiar grooves in the well-worn wood, smoothed to a polish. It was disconcertingly heavy for something its size, a fact that still sometimes took him by surprise even after all these years. The weight of it was a comforting presence in his hand, but the sight of it awakened old hurts; the day he received it forever seared into his memory. His feet walk on automatic down the busy street, too lost in his thoughts to pay proper attention to his surroundings.

An angry shout cut through the peaceful afternoon air, causing him to clench down on the carved bat, pointed edges digging into his palm. He slipped the figurine into his pocket with a muttered curse.

Before he could fully turn towards the commotion, someone with a suspiciously familiar mop of blonde hair pushed him aside. He staggered with the force of it, catching himself before he fell. Another person barrelled after the kid; a large meat clever brandished in one hand and apron spotted with blood.

Jason swore again and took off after the two of them.

He caught up when the kid tripped over. Jason recognised him as Jake, one of the newer faces at Leslie’s clinic. She left the back rooms of her practice open all day, always stocked with blankets and food, as meagre as the amounts she could afford were, and locked it after dark to keep the kids safe inside.

It wasn’t exactly a legal orphanage, but it wasn’t like anyone cared.

The butcher hauled Jake to his feet, fingers clenched in his collar. Jake struggled in the grip but as determined as he was, the man was twice his size and bolstered by his anger. Jason stepped forward cautiously. “Let him go,” he said.

“The little bastard stole from me.” The butcher snarled, shaking Jake for good measure.  

Jason weighed his options. He didn’t particularly want to turn this into a fight, not with that cleaver so close to his head. And he didn’t think he could convince the butcher to just let this go. With those out of the equation he was only really left with one choice. “I’ll pay for it.”

The ‘it’ in question seemed to be some kind of smoked meat, wrapped in brown paper. Calculating that, with what he had, he could probably afford to pay. The kid better be prepared to share ‘cause Jason was going to have to go without buying food for a few days because of this.

The butcher considered this, looking doubtfully at Jason’s torn and thread-bare clothing. Whatever, it wasn’t like he can afford new stuff often. “You go the money?”

Jason pulled out his coin pouch, shaking it to hear the coins clink. The butcher’s eyes lit up in interest and he let go of Jake, who scrambled a few steps back. He went to run but a hard glare from Jason pinned him in place.

“It’ll cost you twenty silvers.” The butcher said.

Jason sighed. He was pretty sure that he was being extorted for a higher price than the meat was originally selling for, but he wasn’t in much of a position to haggle and the butcher knew it. Dutifully he shook out the demanded silver, eyeing his now much depleted bag mournfully. The butcher growled one last warning at Jake before storming away. Jason turned to Jake who was mutinously not meeting his gaze. “That was stupid,” he said.

“I’m hungry, ‘sides he doesn’t need it with the amount he’s changing. The man’s a crook.”

Jason couldn’t really argue with him there. “There are better ways of getting food than stealing it in broad daylight,” he berated the kid, “Leslie’s always got food.”

Jake scuffed his foot against the ground. “There’s never enough to go ‘round. ‘Specially with all the new people turning up each night.”

Jason refrained from saying that not too long-ago Jake was one of those new people. But the kid was right, there had been an uptick in people wanting food and bedding, as always happened as it got closer to winter. Where he could, and especially in the harder months, Jason tried to rely as little as he could on Leslie’s resources. He could work for his keep but there were plenty of kids who couldn’t find honest work, and he didn’t want them picking up the wrong kind just to get by. This next week was going to suck. At that reminder, his attention turned to the package in Jake’s hands.

Seeing where Jason’s eyes were, Jake clutched the meat closer to his chest. “I stole this myself, get your own.”

Jason snorted. “And I bought it.” Jake looked ready to bolt. “Relax kid, I’m not going to take it from you, but you better share it with the other’s at Leslie’s clinic.”

“That’s not fair.”

"Life's not fair. C'mon runt, I'll take you there myself, make sure you don't get into any more trouble along the way." When it was clear Jason wasn't going to take no for an answer, Jake mulishly allowed himself to be led away. 

Rounding the corner, he saw Leslie out front talking to an unfamiliar man. The man dressed like a noble, with his expensive looking, clean clothes but there was a hard glint in his eye and an edge to voice. He looked to be in his thirties with carefully styled brown hair. He cut off whatever he was saying as Jason approached, Jake in tow. His gaze sharpened as he took Jason in, something almost hungry that he didn’t like in the slightest.

With an incline of his head towards Leslie, the man stalked away.

“What was that all about?” Jason asked, jerking his head in the direction the man disappeared.

Leslie pursed her lips. “He was asking about the kids, sounded like he wanted someone for a job but was looking for something in particular. Didn’t give me his name.”

“Sounds shady.”

Leslie smiled tightly at him, the motion throwing the wrinkles in her face into sharp relief. She liked to joke that he caused half of them, but in that moment, it struck him how old she was getting. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the place for the next couple of days to make sure that the noble didn’t go after any of the more naïve or desperate kids.

Kids like Jake.

Jason pushed him forward with one hand. “Idiot got himself caught stealing from the butcher. Don’t worry, I got it all squared away.” He added, anticipating her question.

Leslie ‘tsk’ed and he knew the kid was in for it later. “Thank you, Peter. Jake go inside and put that with the rest of the food.” Under the pressure of her disappointment, Jake went without complaint.

“You haven’t been around much lately.” Leslie remarked, attention now firmly on Jason. Even though the large growth spurt he went through meant he is on the taller and broader side, the lack of proper meals left him scrawnier than he would have liked. He wasn’t the little kid Leslie met all those years ago, but he knew that she still saw him as such.

He shrugged. “Yeah well, I’ve been able to pick up a couple of odd jobs around town. Can pay for my own food and bedding and everything.”

She smiled again, this time softer and more sincere. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. But you’ll always be welcome here. And the kids like having you around.”

“They’re all brats,” he said but found himself returning her smile.

“Take care of yourself Peter.”

He offered her a parting salute. “Always do.”

It was only midday, so he wandered back in the direction he came. With luck he could call in on one of the elder ladies living in the area who would have some work for him. It’d fill up his afternoon and the money he would earn would fill up his stomach for that night.

He only got a few streets away when a person detached themselves from the shade of a doorstep. He recognised them as the noble from outside Leslie’s.

“Are you looking for proper work, boy?”

Jason hesitated. He was, despite what he told Leslie, the odd jobs he picked up working around weren’t going to be able to support him forever. But every instinct within him was screaming that this man was bad news.

“No thanks.” He decided. He went to walk on. Before he could take more than a couple of steps, a large hand came down on his shoulder. Jason jumped slightly, then tensed. He attempted to yank his shoulder free but the grip holding him in place was unforgiving.

He twisted around, catching a glimpse of his captor.

His first impression was that he was big. Easily over six foot tall, broad shouldered, with impressive muscles to match. The second was that he had an eye patch over his right eye, but something told Jason that it didn’t make him any less of a threat. Nor did his age, if the shock of white hair was anything to go by.

“What is this?”

“I just want to have a friendly chat, then afterwards if you really don’t want to accept my offer then we can go our separate ways, no harm, no foul.” The noble’s tone was slimy, and Jason didn’t trust it or him one bit.

“My name is Roman Sionis, though you will address me as sir.” The noble continued. Jason’s stomach sank. If the man was secretive enough to not give Leslie his name, him telling Jason meant that he had no plans to let him walk away from this. “Tell me yours.”

Jason glared at the man; he wasn’t going to play along that easily. The hand on his shoulder tightened warningly as the silence dragged on. “Peter.” He finally said through a clenched jaw. “What do you want from me, Sionis?”

Sionis narrowed his eyes at him pointedly.

“What do you want from me,  _sir_?” Jason amended. He shrugged away the hand on his shoulder and, surprisingly, Sionis’ thug let go. Probably thought he was going to behave now.

“I have a task, that only one particular person can fulfil. If you succeed at the task you will be rewarded beyond your wildest imaginings.” Sionis said, annoyingly vague.

“Yeah that’s not going to cut it. Want to tell me what exactly this task is?”

Sionis shook his head, as if answering such questions were beneath him. Probably wasn’t used to people questioning him. Two names like that he was definitely high born, only those with money and power have last names.

“That isn’t something to be discussed here. Come.” He ordered simply, turning and walking away as if he expected Jason to follow.

“Like hell.” He hissed, turning and ducking away as the thug attempted to grab him again. He kicked the man’s knee, forcing a grunt out of him and making him stagger slightly. That was all the opening Jason needed. He took off at a sprint but only got a few meters before a heavy body slammed into his from behind, knocking him off his feet. All the air left his lungs in a rush as he landed on the ground. Jason could only gasp for breath as the eye-patched man pinned his arm to his back and hauled him to his feet.

“I had hoped this would go so much smoother.” Sionis said.

Jason didn’t care much what Sionis hoped and told him as such. The man tutted, taking Jason’s chin in one hand. Jason jerked back but the grip was too strong. His head was tilted from side to side, inspected like a piece of meat. Jason snarled but Sionis ignored him.

“Well at least you have spirit.” Sionis dismissed him in favour of the man holding him captive. “Take him.”

That was all the warning he got before stars burst behind his eyes and his world went black


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason meets the rest of the gang.

The first thing he registered was that the ground was moving beneath him. A sort of rolling motion that sent throbbing waves through his head and caused his stomach to curl with nausea. He stifled at groan at the last minute, realising that it would be better to fake unconsciousness. At least until he figured out where he was. He guessed he was in a wagon, with a rough wooden floor, and the snorting of a horse nearby.

Weirdly enough there was a repetitive rasping sound that he couldn’t place.

Pushing away the last vestiges of unconsciousness he slitted one eye open, then the other, the bright light sending a spike of pain through his skull. When the throbbing pain receded to a manageable level, he carefully tried again. All he could see was the bright blue expanse of the sky, face turned upwards. Judging by the sun’s position, it was now late afternoon. He’d been knocked out for a few hours and had been taken god knows where. By the relative quiet he knew that they were no longer in the town, though the continued rasping drilled into his head.

Someone shifts, thumping against the wood as they adjust their position.

Leslie was going to notice that he was gone. She would be on edge after Sionis’ visit earlier and if Jason didn’t show up at the clinic in the next day or so she was going to realise what happened. Of course, there wouldn’t be much she could do about it really. She never got Sionis’ name, had no idea where they have gone, and it wasn’t like anyone else was going to put any effort into looking for him.

No, he was alone in getting himself out of this mess.

Jason allowed himself to move with the jolting of the wagon, head now pitched to the side. Across from him were two boys, around the same age as him as far as he could tell. One had dark brown hair, the other black but both with blue eyes. They bore a striking but somewhat unsettling resemblance to each other, possibly brothers. But that was where their similarities ended.

The dark-haired boy was scrawny and had an arrogant air about him whereas the brown-haired boy was much more muscular with his face set into a glower.

The darker haired boy looked down, eyes meeting Jason’s. For a moment he just holds his gaze, Jason silently pleading with him to say silent. Then he looks to the front of the wagon. “He’s awake.”

Without so much as a warning, a large hand grabbed his shoulder, unceremoniously hauling him into a sitting up position. His head complained the movement, world spinning and tilting before settling. He glared at the hand, following the line of the arm to come face to face with the eye-patched man from earlier. The man let go with a smirk, returning to his blade and whetstone. That would explain the rasping.

“Ah, our guest of honour finally awakes.” Sionis’ mocking tone carried back from his seat at the front. “Peter, you’ve met Slade,” Eye-patch man tilts his head, “Here with me is Cain.”

Sure enough, up the front with Sionis was another white-haired man, just as dangerous looking as Slade.

“And our other guests, Zachary,” the dark-haired boy who snitched on him, “And Grant.” The other boy turned his glare on Jason for a second. “They’re the ones you’re going to be competing with.”

It was then he realised what had unsettled him so much about the other two boys; they looked unnervingly similar to him.

“Competing for what.”

Sionis didn’t answer. Zachary sneered and Grant shrugged at his questioning look. Clearly, they had no more idea than him. But neither of them were sporting a bruised head.

“You don’t know what this is about, and you came willingly?” Jason asked them, unable to keep the accusatory edge out of his voice.

Grant shrugged again. “I needed the work and I wasn’t exactly welcome in my town anymore.”

“What’d you do, get caught with the minister’s daughter?” From what Jason could tell, Grant looked as if he had been a farm hand, with muscles like those. Zachary, on the other hand, didn’t look like he’d seen a day of hard work in his life.

“Something like that, yeah.” Grant looked away, scowl deepening.

Letting him be, Jason turned his efforts on Slade. “So, what’d you do to have to slum it back here with us?” With some luck he could create some discontent between Sionis and his thugs.

Slade just looked amused, as if he knew what Jason was trying to do.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, Jason sat back to nurse his headache in peace.

Sionis called a halt as the sun began its descent below the horizon. They were no-where near a town, but apparently the clearing a little way off the road had been deemed a worthy place to spend the night by the noble. Not like Jason could tell the difference between one tree or the next so it wasn’t like he was in a position to judge. He and the other boys were ordered down from the wagon and set to work setting up camp while Cain and Slade oversaw them. Sionis stayed where he was writing something in a leather-bound book, letting his gaze settle on each boy at a time. To Jason it looked as if he were taking notes.

In no time they had cleared the ground of the worst of the twigs, set up two tents and started a roaring fire, complete with several logs to make up a circle around it.

“I want to take measure of your character.” Sionis announced as they all sat down around the fire. The boy’s exchanged nervous glances, not sure what he meant by that.

From a bag, Cain produced dried meat and an assortment of fruit. He passed it out to Sionis and Slade. Jason watched him hungrily, but it soon came apparent that none was coming their way. “And what about us, do we get to eat?” He asked.

“When you’ve earnt it.” Sionis gestured at Zachary. “Stand up.”

Zachary did as he was told, face twisted in apprehension.

“You are in a duel with an opponent who is a better swordsman than yourself. The fight is meant to be to the death, but it is clear to you that he is going to be the victor. Do you beg mercy or continue to fight to certain death?”

Jason blinked in surprise. That was not what he was expecting. An actual duel perhaps, with Slade or Cain, but this was a different kind of test. What kind of game was Sionis playing?

Resolving himself, Zachary straightened. “I would beg for mercy. If I knew that I would lose then nothing is accomplished by continuing to fight. If I live, then I can train to become better and fight another day.”

Sionis nodded but gave no indication of his opinion of Zachary’s answer.

“And you, Grant?”

Grant stood; shoulders set. “I would fight to the death. I’ve had some training with the sword, I might win. If I were to lose, then at least I would go with honour and not live a coward.”

Zachary flinched slightly at that, knowing that Grant had the better answer. Grant knew it too, a small, self-satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

Sionis turned to Jason. “Peter?”

“I’d beg mercy.”

Grant’s smirk widened.

“And then when my opponent lowers his guard expecting no fight, I would finish it,” Jason continued.

Sionis laughed as Zachary spluttered indignantly.

“That’s a violation of all basic rules of swordsmanship,” he protested.

Jason shrugged. “What do I care about the rules. If it’s a matter of life and death, I chose my own life over someone’s idea of fair play.”

Grant chimed in, “You would never win against a master swordsman that way. He would know better than to lower his guard.”

“Sionis never said he was a master swordsman,” Jason shot back, “Just that he was better than me.”

“Stand when I address you.” Sionis interrupted their conversation. Jason obeyed. Sionis stalked over to him, stopping closer then Jason liked but Jason refused to step back. A part of him wondered if this was a test to see if he would.

“You’re a trick to figure out, Peter. Would you ever be on my side, even if I chose you above the other boys?”

“I’m only on my side. Your _trick_ will be convincing me that helping you helps me.”

“But that’s not quite true is it?” Sionis tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You helped that other boy at a risk to your own self, then gave away what little money you had without intending to get anything in return.”

Jason started. He didn’t know how Sionis knew that, when he would have been with Leslie at the time. They’d only met after.

Recovering, he smiled lazily. “Well, what can I say, Leslie would have been angry if she found out I didn’t do anything.”

Sionis shot him a look that distinctly expressed how full of crap he thought Jason was, but walked back to his log, apparently satisfied for the time being. “Eat now, you will need your strength. Tomorrow our work begins.”

It seemed that they weren’t going to be getting any more information about what that ‘work’ was that night.

After they finished eating, Sionis retired to his tent.

Slade and Cain approached the three boys with a length of rope for each. With a lot of protesting and failed coercing, Jason found himself tied with his hands behind his back. Grant and Zachary were in a similar predicament, but to make it worse, another length of rope was wrapped around the trunk of a nearby tree and their hands fixed to it. At least the thugs had the decency to choose a tree fairly close to the warmth of the fire.

“What’s the point of this, we’re not going to run.” Zachary groused. From the glare he gave Jason he obviously thought it was his fault.

Cain and Slade had a hushed conversation that ended with Cain disappearing into the second tent and Slade sitting back down by the fire.

Jason knew his best chance for escape was soon. Slade would begin to tire after being awake all day, and if he waited for the watch to change over, Cain would be energised by his sleep. He started to twist his wrists, looking for any slack or weaknesses in the restraints. Unfortunately, or in this case rather fortunately, this wasn’t Jason’s first time being tied up and either was it his first time escaping.

Grant watched his efforts. He snorted softly. “Why bother trying to get free?”

Jason shot him a look. “You really want to stay here, with them?”

Grant shrugged. “Sionis is offering a huge reward for the work. He’s looking for one particular boy and I intend to be him.”

“So do I.” Zachary piped up.

“Great.” Jason tugged at the ropes again, casting a furtive look in Slade’s direction but it didn’t appear that he could hear the hushed conversation. “Then keep your mouths shut for long enough for me to get away and that’s one less person you have to compete against.”

Grant and Zachary exchanged a look. Evidently, they were fine with this idea as they both turned away and feigned sleep.

The coarse rope cut into his wrists, leaving behind scrapes that quickly welted, but the pain didn’t deter Jason. Curling up he reached for his waistband. He didn’t know if it was stupidity or arrogance, but no-one had bothered searching him. If they had, they would’ve known that he had a knife tucked out of sight.

Having to pause each time Slade looked back at them meant the whole ordeal went slower than Jason would have liked. But the sharp blade made short work of the rope, and he only slipped, nicking the inside of his wrist, once, so he counted that as a win. With his hands free, he started looking for a way to sneak away.

If he were quiet enough, and Grant and Zachary kept their mouths shut, he could probably slip away silently, and Slade would be none the wiser until he was far away. The man checked on them like clockwork; if he moved just after Slade looked away, he would have a pretty good head start. Not an amazing plan – he had no idea where the nearest town was – but his other option was a much stupider one. Knowing how easily Slade took him down earlier, even the element of surprise wouldn’t be enough to guarantee a victory if they were to fight.

Cain wouldn’t be much easier, especially if he were woken up by the struggle. And he didn’t like his chances against Sionis either. Then there was Grant and Zachary who would definitely raise a ruckus if he started to go around killing people. All in all, a bad option.

Slade glanced over at them, and Jason pretended to be asleep, just as he had the past god-knows how many times he’d done this. Opening his eyes to the sight of Slade’s back, he slowly began to edge his way around the trunk of the tree, keeping up a litany of prayers that neither of the others would change their minds and dob him in. His heart jumped to his throat as his boots crunched in the dried leaves and surrounding twigs, but the noises were no louder than the crackles and pops of the still lit fire and Slade didn’t turn around.

As soon as he was out of the light of the fire, and far enough away to risk the noise, he turned tail and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation about sword fighting is taken basically verbatim from the book, so credit goes to Nielsen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are foiled and things are discussed.

Running in the dark was hard. Running in the dark in the middle of a forest where there were tree roots to trip on and leaves that blotted out the light of the moon was near impossible. After just a few minutes Jason’s toes felt bruised and his face was scraped from low hanging branches. He hoped he wasn’t going in circles, but each tree looked the same as the next, so he had no way of knowing for sure.

Pain lanced through his foot once more as it caught on an unseen root. He threw his arm out, pinwheeling and grasping at a nearby tree. The branch he managed to grab snapped, a loud noise in the quiet of the forest and before he could properly comprehend what happened, Jason found himself face-first in the dirt. He groaned piteously, lamenting the bad luck that had brought him there.

A deep chuckle rung out from the trees.

Jason scrambled to his feet; hand clenched around the hilt of the knife at his waist. He searched the surrounding trees, but in the dark he couldn’t see anything but shadows. “Show yourself,” he demanded.

Slade materialised nearly directly in front of him and Jason stumbled back, brandishing his knife. Damn it. Grant or Zachary must have told on him. That or he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought. “I won’t let you take me back,” he said defiantly.

Slade laughed again. “Oh, you won’t _let_ me?” He unsheathed the sword he had been sharpening earlier. The size difference between it and Jason’s knife was laughably apparent. Still Jason wasn’t going to let that intimidate him. This was probably the only chance at escape he was going to get. After this, if he gets out of it alive, Sionis would keep him under much stricter supervision.

Slade met his attack with the strength of a battering ram. Jason’s arm shook with the effort and the blades made a horrible shrieking sound, but the knife held. Slade grunted with surprise and pushed harder. Jason staggered but managed to keep his feet.

There was no way he could win this in a measure of brute strength, and the weapons only furthered his disadvantage.

He danced back a couple of steps, eyeing Slade’s sword warily. He was younger than Slade, smaller, most likely faster. And Slade wouldn’t expect him to have any training, thinking of him as Peter. Bruce always said that tactics were the most important part of any fight, no matter how outclassed you were in sword ability, if you could outthink your opponent then the battle would be yours. Jason had to use what he had and hope to take Slade by surprise.

He darted forwards, hoping to get inside the range of Slade’s sword. The problem with large weapons is that the user needed a lot of room to be able swing them around and hit their opponents with. Get inside of that zone and they couldn’t do much.

Jason managed to get in one swipe of his knife, that Slade knocked to the side, before he was stumbling past the man who had deftly turned to the side and stepped out of his reach. Not wanting to give Slade a chance to get his sword up, Jason took advantage of their continued proximity to whirl around and slash at the older man.

Slade brought his arm up to block the blow. The knife slid across his upper arm, leaving a thin, red line in its wake. Jason felt a thrill of excitement that he might possible be able to win this fight, and get away, at the sight of the injury.

It was gone a second later when an iron grip latched onto his wrist, tightening until his hand spasmed and the knife fell to the ground. Looking up at Slade, Jason found that his eyes had lost all semblance of the earlier humour, patience spent.

Using the hold, Slade swung him around, propelling him sideways until his feet tangled together.

Once again Jason found himself sprawled in the dirt, only this time on his back with the top of Slade’s sword at his neck. “I don’t want to kill you,” Slade said mildly, “Sionis would take a chunk out of my pay for it, but you’re a pain in the arse so it’s a price I’m willing to pay if you don’t behave.” He pressed the cold steel harder, then moved back slightly. “Get up.”

Cautiously, Jason levered himself to his feet, hyper aware of the sword mere inches from his throat. His eyes flickered to his knife lying in the dirt, but knew he’d never make it there in time. Keeping his blade level, Slade stalked over to the knife, making Jason follow for fear of getting his throat cut. Without breaking eye contact, he crouched and picked up the knife, sword lowering away from Jason as he did so. For a split-second Jason considered breaking out into a run there and then. But he then Slade narrowed his eye and Jason knew with a sickening clarity if he tried, Slade would kill him.

His current situation wasn’t ideal, but it was better than death.

Slade slid the knife into his belt, then he turned, leaving Jason to stare dumbfounded at his back. “You’ve got guts kid. Make sure they don’t end up getting you dead.” Slade threw over his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned that Jason could bolt again.

Jason touched his neck. His fingers came away wet. Without a word, he followed Slade back to the camp.

 

Sionis questioned Jason about the scabbing cut the next morning. Which meant that Slade hadn’t said anything to his employer. His eyes sought the man out, and Sionis, following his gaze, redirected his query to Slade.

“He started to get too mouthy. I think you’ll find him a lot more cooperative now.” Slade simply said, fingering the hilt of his sword.

Jason glared but held his tongue. Slade smiled slowly at him, but there was nothing kind about it. Whatever reason he had for keeping the secret, Jason wasn’t going to like it.

Just as they had done last night, Sionis and his thugs ate breakfast while Jason and the other two boys looked on hungrily, still tied to the tree. They were only cut free after the food was gone, sitting down on the logs by the unlit fire as directed. Jason scowled as he rubbed his wrists gingerly. If Sionis was going to kidnap them like this, the least he could do was feed them.

Sionis pulled out the same book he had been taking notes in the last night. “Grant, you said you had some training with the sword?”

Grant blinked in surprise at the sudden question, then nodded. “Yes sir, there was a retired soldier, Rick, who employed me and taught me some basics.”

“This Rick, he won’t be looking for you, will he?” Of course Sionis would be concerned about someone coming looking for them. ‘Wouldn’t want someone ruining his no doubt illegal plans after all’ Jason thought grimly.

“I was caught with the mayor’s daughter, Toni. He didn’t think that I was good enough for her, and we argued. Things escalated, I might ‘a done a few things in anger and, well, he cast me out of the town and told everyone to forget me.” His expression was forlorn, and Jason couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy. He knew what it was like to be forced to leave, cast aside by someone like a father to him.

Assured there was no threat, and done with that line of questioning, Sionis addressed the three of them. “Can any of you read?”

In unison Jason and Grant shook their heads while Zachary raised his hand hesitantly. “My cousin taught me to read, sir.”

“Your cousin. And where are they now?” Sionis asked.

Zachary picked at the wood of the log. “I don’t know.” He said quietly.

They left the campsite quickly after that, clearing everything until there was no trace that they had been there the night before save from a small, scorched patch where the fire had been. Grant caught Jason’s eye as they worked. “We didn’t tell him.” He said quietly.

There was no need to guess who the ‘him’ he was talking about was. “You didn’t tell Sionis either.” Jason pointed out, more curious than anything. This was a competition about winning Sionis’ favour and something like that would help Grant’s chances immensely.

“Didn’t want to get on Slade’s bad side.” Grant smiled grimly.

They hadn’t been travelling for very long before Sionis swung around to face them. From a side bag he pulled out a loaf of bread, turning it over in his hands and tearing off a chunk. Jason perked up in interest, his empty stomach making itself known at the sight.

Besides him, Zachary and Grant also fixed their attention on Sionis. The three of them probably looked like trained dogs, turning to their master to be fed. Jason’s lip curled in disgust at the mental image.

 “Who is the current king of Gotham?” Sionis asked. It seemed that once again they were going to have to answer questions for food.

“King Bruce.” Grant said quickly. Sionis tossed him the piece of bread. Grant looked smug, but Jason thought it was more about getting the bread than knowing the answer. Any of them could have answered he had just gotten to it first.

“And how did King Bruce come to the throne?”

Grant sat back; brow furrowed. Zachary leaned forward at his silence. “King Thomas and Queen Martha were killed when King Bruce was a boy, leaving him the throne at a young age. He has no queen but adopted sons as heirs,” he said. Sionis chucked him a piece of bread.

“Correct. How many sons does the king have?”

“Two,” Jason said, “Richard and Jason.”

"Actually," Zachary interjected, "His two current sons are Richard and Timothy. Prince Jason was killed four years ago when his ship was attacked. A year later King Bruce adopted Prince Timothy."

Jason glared at him. He bit back a wave of rising resentment, struggling not to let it show. There was no reason for Peter, Metropolian orphan, to care about the Gotham royal family. His glare darkened as Sionis tossed even more bread to Zachary.

“I was technically right,” he complained. “He’s only ever had two sons at once.”

Sionis pinned him with a cold gaze. “There is no room for technicalities here. Do any of you know how many regents the king has?”

This time even Zachary was silent.

“The court is comprised of twenty regents from the noble families in Gotham. I am one of these regents, albeit a more minor one, inheriting the position after my father died. Majority of the regent positions are hereditary although some can be won through extraordinary acts of service to the crown or kingdom. It is a position of power and prestige and so highly sought after, with near a hundred eligible nobles in the kingdom.”

Sionis paused, allowing the information to sink in. “I suppose it’s too much to ask if any of you how the court works.”

The three of them shake their heads.

At their confession, Sionis continues on. “At the head of the court and at the king’s right hand is the high chamberlain, Lord Lucius Fox. He largely handles the day to day running of the kingdom and the role is for life, and thus is a royal in all but name. The regents act as a council to the king’s decisions and each manages a section of land. The highest of regents is the prime regent, a man called Oswald Cobblepot. Like me, he inherited the position and started off as a minor regent. He is, however, ruthless in his ambition and although he leaves behind no proof, it is believed that he gained the position through destroying the reputation and lives of those in his way. He may even have killed for the position. It is no small secret he desires the throne.”

“Is that a possibility?” Grant asked, “I mean, King Bruce has sons.”

Sionis threw him some bread for the question.

“There is some uncertainty surrounding Richard’s claim to the throne,” he answered, “Not only is he not an heir by blood but he came from a commoner’s family. The regents are largely split on what this means for the throne when King Bruce passes away. Some support Richard, while others want Timothy, as a Drake and a noble on the throne. Others, such as Cobblepot want the throne for themselves, but that would most likely lead to a civil war with all of them squabbling over the position.”

“And what about you? Who do you want on the throne?” Jason said.

Sionis shook his head. “What I want is to avoid civil war. Gotham is in far to precarious a position to risk weakening our defences by in fighting. Which is why you are here.” He split the bread into three pieces, chucking one to each boy.

Grant and Zachary tore into theirs hungrily, but for all his stomach’s complaining, Jason could only pick at his bread. He didn’t know what Sionis was planning, but he feared that would lead them all to treason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was so little actual plot in this one but there was some world building stuff that needed to be discussed so that everything makes sense. Unfortunately this won't be the last of these world building conversations.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the girls, the plot thickens and some unfortunate truths are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the updated tags, so read ahead at your own discretion.  
> No proof reading, we die like men.

It was nearing the evening by the time they pulled up in front of a grand manor. They’d past the gates heralding the property a while back, continuing to travel through the large, sprawling estate before arriving at the gravel path leading to the entrance of the manor, lined with well-kept, luscious plants. The manor itself was just as impressive with three full floors and a centre wing that extended further forwards than the two sides. A thin ledge ran along the seam of each floor and the roofing tiles sloped upwards a little ways before evening out into a flat ledge.

A line of servants met them at the door, fusing around Sionis and taking the horses and wagon away to be looked after. Sionis brushed them aside, striding into the manor with a command to follow him.

The foyer was an imposing room with a ceiling reaching all the way to the top of the second floor. Grant and Zachary looked around in awe at the polished floor adorned with a plush rug and glistening chandelier. They had never seen anything this luxurious before, and belatedly Jason remembered that “Peter” hadn’t either.

It almost reminded him of his first time at the palace, out of place in his worn, dirty clothes, small amongst the grandeur. It made him want to wipe some of the grime on the wall. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingering one of the wooden wings.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark-haired girl standing by the balustrade of the grand staircase. He turned to look at her properly but only caught another glimpse as she melted back into the shadows and out of sight. Without a word, Cain started up the staircase, moving in the direction the girl had disappeared. No-one said anything about his departure, or the girl.

“You have each been assigned a hand servant. Follow them to bathe and change; you’ll be dining with me tonight and you must look presentable.” Sionis was saying. On cue, three servants stepped forward.

Two of them were older men, possibly in their mid-twenties, and they bowed respectfully to Zachary and Grant respectively. The third was a blonde girl who, if Jason had to guess, was a year or so younger than him. Her air was pulled up into a ponytail and her bow to him was just shy of stiff.

At Sionis’ dismissal, he followed her further into the manor.

Trailing a little way behind the other two boys and their servants, they made their way down long hallways lined with intricately woven tapestries. Jason couldn’t help but think that each one could fund Leslie’s clinic for months. He paused mid-stride, at one depicting the spring gardens of the palace. The girl stopped as well, looking back a him with a slight frown on her face.

Jason swallowed back nostalgia, forcing himself to look away. There was no time to dwell on the past now.

“I’m Peter.” Jason said as he hurried up half a step to fall in line with the girl, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Stephanie, sir.”

Jason recoiled at the honorific. “Do you really have to call me that? I’m not exactly a noble.” It had taken him a while to get used to it the first time, and it wasn’t any less weird the second.

Stephanie hesitated. “Yes, it’s what we’ve been instructed to call you.” At least she looked no happier about it then he was. “You’ll just have to deal with it.” She said, a sarcastic edge crept into her previously neutral tone.

She led him up a set of stairs to another hallway filled with doors, but no less grand than the previous. The guest quarters. Up ahead of them, Zachary was taken through a door, Grant through another. Stephanie stopped outside a third door. “You’ll all be sleeping in the one room, but you get separate bathrooms.”

She turns the handle to reveal a large room with silver furnishings and a bathtub set in the middle. He knew for those used to money that the bathroom would be considered modest, but to him the tub itself was worth its weight in gold. The door closed behind them with a click and, out of the sight of the others, Stephanie’s posture changed immediately.

“You going to help me?” She said, setting about filling the tub with warm water. Jason couldn’t care less about being ordered about by someone who was supposed to be serving him and set about helping. Once the bath was full, the two of them pulled over a foldable screen that block the view of the tub from the door. At least that way he’d be spared the indignity of Stephanie seeing him naked.

He wondered why Sionis had assigned him a female servant, most would consider it improper for a girl to be near him in this situation.

He undressed as soon as Stephanie left the room, unsure as to how long he was going to be allowed to wash for, leaving him clothes in a lumpy pile next to the screen. The warm water felt heavenly, soothing the tension in his muscles. For a moment he just let himself relax and sink into the heat. It had been a long time since he had washed with anything but cold water, if at all.

Absently he considered opening the window and slipping out. He could take off running across the grounds and towards the forest he could see stretched out in front of him. But he doubted he would be able to cross the several hundred meters it would take for him to reach the safety of the trees without anyone noticing him from one of the many windows. And if he was caught, Slade might tell Sionis of what happened the last night. With two failed escape attempts, Sionis would no doubt decide that Jason was too much of a risk and disappear him.

No, for now he needed to play along and bide his time.

He froze at the sound of the door opening again, but it was only Stephanie calling out that she was leaving clothes for him. He scrubbed at himself, watching the water turn murky with dirt.

Jason emerged from the tub feeling a lot better than he had before going in, and with the semblance of a plan.

The calm evaporated almost instantly. He threw on the clothes laid out for him, doing up all the buttons and ties by muscle memory, almost tripping over himself several times in his haste to get dressed. Rushing to the door, he flung it open calling for Stephanie as he did so.

He came face to face with a surprised Stephanie, blinking her shock. All the others, Grant, Zachary and their hand servants were already in the hallway and squinted at him in various levels of judgement. Ignoring them, Jason pulled Stephanie into the room and shut the door.

“My clothes, where did they go?”

Stephanie shrugged, taken aback. “Sionis said they were to be gotten rid of. Why do you care, they were falling apart?”

“I don’t care about the clothes.” Jason snapped, then took a deep breath. “There’s a carved bat in one of the pockets, could you get it back?”

Stephanie looked at him shrewdly. “What’s in it for me?”

“A gold coin.”

“And where will you get the coin from?”

Jason hesitated. His money was also with his clothes and he didn’t exactly have a ready supply of gold coins. But he could get one, given enough time. Sionis would have a safe or vault or maybe even a bag in his desk drawer and if Jason learnt anything both in his time on the streets and at the palace its how to get into places people don’t want you to be, unnoticed.

Stephanie shook her head. “Whatever batboy, I’ll ask around.”

Jason let out a deep breath, the last of the panic receding. “Thank you.” Stephanie looked a bit unnerved by the unhidden sincerity in his voice and just nodded awkwardly.

“We should go. The others will already be on their way to Sionis by now and he’s not a man you want to keep waiting,” she said.

 

Dinner was quiet, with none of the boys daring to say anything and Sionis only speaking to criticise their table etiquette. By the time Stephanie had dropped him off at the entrance to the dining hall, everyone else had already arrived with Grant sitting at the seat on Sionis’ left and Zachary on the right. Jason sat down next to Grant without being prompted, earning himself a disapproving look from Sionis but obviously wasn’t enough to warrant a remark.

He purposely ate messily, holding his cutlery in a way that Alfred would have scolded him for. The thought would have made him smile if not for Sionis’ sharp barbs that were nothing like the sarcastic, but kind comments Alfred would have for any time Jason did anything he disapproved of.

Missing Alfred was almost a physical thing some days. Bruce tried his best when Jason first arrived, but it was Alfred that really made the palace feel like a home. In between his lessons and Alfred’s work, they would spend hours in the library together going over old tomes and the latest books. It was the talks that Jason missed the most, the late-night ones when he couldn’t sleep and all the kitchen staff had gone home, Alfred would make them tea and they’d chat until Jason was drooping in his seat.

Jason was drawn out of his musings by the last of the plates being collected from in front of him by the waitstaff, who disappeared out of a side door. Sionis waited a minute to ensure they were all gone, then sprawled back in his chair. “Now, it is time to tell you what we will be working towards.”

He paused dramatically. Jason wanted to roll his eyes at the theatrics. As if their attention hadn’t been on him since the start, as if they hadn’t been eagerly anticipating this moment ever since the first night.

When Sionis spoke again his voice was low. “You are not to speak of anything I say within this room if there is any member of my staff present. A few trusted members know this truth and they will make their selves known to you. You tell anyone else about this and I’ll have no option other than to have them executed, do you understand me?”

Jason gritted his teeth at the threat. Sionis wasn’t going to kill them, at least not yet, not while they were still valuable to him. But he was holding other people’s lives over their heads for their compliance. Whatever he was planning it must be even worse than Jason had been thinking. Grant and Zachary had gone pale, taken aback at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. While they may have suspected the danger in what Sionis was wanting them to do before, they all knew now that he was willing to kill for it.

Sionis took their strangled silence for an answer, nodding to himself. “Now that, that unpleasantness is out of the way, Peter asked earlier what I wanted. I said I wanted to avoid civil war. Unfortunately, that may not be a possibility. Cobblepot is amassing a following, gathering political allies and ground troops. He plans to make his move in two week’s time, and it will throw the country into unrest.”

“But surely no one would support him over the king?” Zachary asked, voice weak.

“A few years ago, maybe,” Sionis said, unperturbed by the interruption, “But now there are whisperings that King Bruce is weak. Metropolis threatens war, and the king does nothing. In the face of his passivity, King Alexander is becoming more and more outspoken in his intentions, while King Bruce continues to preach peace. There are whisperings that Prince Jason’s death broke his will and he now spends his time locked away mourning, too weak and out of touch to properly rule the kingdom.”

Jason shook his head slightly. If Bruce was one thing, it wasn’t weak willed. He didn’t rush into battle, preferring diplomacy if at all possible. Because Bruce knew that the ones who would suffer for it were his people, sent to fight and orphaning their children.

And he certainly wasn’t still mourning Jason, not if the newest addition to the royal family meant anything. Bruce had moved on and replaced him.

“Cobblepot has his supporters, but there are other regents who desire the throne who are gaining their own followers. With the country at war with itself, it will be the perfect opportunity for Metropolis to strike.” Sionis continued.

Grant leaned forwards; brow furrowed. “But what does that have to do with us? I mean what can we do?” He motioned between himself, Jason and Zachary dubiously.

“As yourselves, nothing.” Sionis laughed, as if at his own joke. “Do you remember what Zachary said in answer to my question about the royal family this morning? About Prince Jason?”

They all nodded.

 “The Prince had been sent over to Metropolis on a diplomatic mission in an attempt to strengthen the ties between the two kingdoms. Then Prince Jason’s ship was attacked and with no other evidence, Metropolis was the main suspect. We were on the brink of war, before the pirate known as The Joker claimed he had done it “for fun.” That was all that prevented an all-out war.”

Jason ruthlessly pushed back memories of cackling laughter, splintering wood, shouts of fear and rage, and the deafening crack of cannons. Now was not the time for that. His hand crept to his pocket as belatedly he remembered he no longer had his carving.

Sionis steepled his fingers, continuing to talk, completely unaware of Jason’s internal struggle.

“I never had the opportunity to meet him, but since joining the court I have been told many stories about him. In his absence, the opinion of the public has shifted to the dislike of a Gotham street rat to a martyr like figure.”

“I was told that he met the King when he was attempting to steal the wheel for the royal carriage.” Zachary said.

“And I heard that he challenged King Oliver to a duel of honour when he was thirteen years old.” Grant added. “He lost of course, but the king was impressed by his skill, the story goes.”

“We all know the stories,” Jason snapped, “What’s your point?”

“My _point_ , is that the Prince’s body was never found. Three regents have been sent to the site of the wreak and all come back with nothing.”

Zachary’s mouth slackened in surprise. “You think he might still be alive?”

“No,” Sionis said definitively, “He’s dead, I have proof of it. But if he were alive, it would weaken Cobblepot or anyone else’s claim to the throne.”

“What does it matter? Bruce is king and Richard is the heir to the throne. Even if Jason were alive, it would mean nothing.” Jason spat.

“Ahh, but that’s where we get to the most dangerous secret of all.” Sionis said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “The reason for all of this, the reason that Cobblepot is gathering in numbers, is that in two weeks it will be announced that the entire royal family is dead; murdered just under a week ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. It's how the original goes, I swear, I'm just following the story. Okay, I'm gonna let myself out now.


End file.
